


More frequent than to fail

by alexcat



Series: More thicker than forget [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 09:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14614794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/pseuds/alexcat
Summary: Stephen Strange doesn't last a day withoutSteve.





	More frequent than to fail

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fifth installment of More Thicker than Forget. It gets its title from the poem by e.e. cummings  
> See end notes for part 3 for poem in its entirety.

Stephen Strange was back at the New York Sanctum after spending 6 weeks with Steve Rogers in England. He was having problems concentrating on anything. It seemed he left most of his brain as well as his heart in England. 

Wong grinned at him like a loon as soon as he saw him.

“You said you’d be gone a week.”

“I had business.”

“Is that what it was?” 

“Do you think I’d lie?” Strange still wasn’t used to being questioned about anything. There was a certain amount of arrogance about him that nothing could erase. 

“No, but the hero, Rogers, called an hour or so ago. Said he was making sure you got home okay.”

“Ah, okay.” He floundered for an answer, but finally changed the subject. “Can you help me with this bag?” He handed Wong his suitcase as if he were a bellboy. Wong was still grinning as they went up the steps.

“Have things been quiet?” 

“The cape has been lonely but other than that, yes.” Wong set his suitcase outside his bedroom door. 

“The cape is lonely?” As if called, the magical cape flew around his shoulders. 

“See? Maybe take it the next time.” 

“Do we have food?” 

“Do we ever?”

“Do we have any money for food?” 

“Do we ever?” Wong threw his hands up. 

“I may have a few dollars left somewhere in my pockets.” 

Between them, they found enough cash for dinner. Being a Master of the Mystic Arts was not a high paying job, or even a paying job, for that matter. Strange thought he might have to open a fortune telling parlor to buy food. 

After dinner, he texted Steve, figuring that he’d be in bed as it was the middle of the night in the UK. 

_Wong said you called. He’s been smirking ever since I got home. I miss you._

To his surprise, he heard back immediately. _Too quiet here without you. I think it might be time to move somewhere else. Might go see Bucky. I’ll let you know._

Stephen dialed his number. Steve answered quickly. “Thank God. I hate texting!” 

“I wanted to hear your voice. Seems strange to be away from you after six weeks,” Strange said. 

“You could use that ring thing and pop over here.” 

Strange’s heart picked up its pace. “I could.”

“We could steal a few hours before I have to move on. Who would know?” 

Strange cut the connection and in moments was in Steve’s bedroom. 

Even though it had only been a day since they’d seen one another, they feverishly tugged and pulled at each other’s clothing until they were both naked and kissing hungrily. 

“It feels like a year,” Steve said as he dragged a willing Strange toward the bed. They fell on the bed in a tangle of limbs and sheets. “I even talked to the caretaker today. That’s how desperate I was.” 

“Stop talking and kiss me again,” Strange said to Steve. Steve obliged, kissing his mouth then branching out as he nibbled his ear then his neck. Trailing his wet tongue down one arm made Strange shiver and he moaned when Steve licked the pulse point on his wrist before kissing his beautiful, damaged hands, taking one of his fingers into his mouth and sucking it gently.

“Good God! Where did you learn that?” Strange asked. 

Steve paused, “I read it on the internet today.” 

“You should go online more.” 

“Stop talking,” Steve said as he went back to his task, kissing Stephen’s hands, up the inside of his arm. Strange was becoming a trembling, needy mess and Steve was offering no mercy. Yet. 

Steve rolled him over and began to nibble in the small of Strange’s back, licking a wet trail up his spine. He smiled to himself when goosebumps formed on Strange’s arms from the attention. He rolled him onto his back again, this time kissing nipples and ribs and treasure trail down, down until Stephen was prepared to beg. 

“Have I kissed enough of you or should we go for more?” 

“I don’t know if I can stand much more, you bastard,” Strange ground out. 

Steve opened his legs wide and kissed his perineum, running his tongue over the tiny line of tissue, careful not to touch his testicles.  
“Fuck!” Strange hissed. “You’re killing me.”

In a concession, Steve took him into his hand, not stroking, just holding him as he finished his torturous journey by replacing his hand with his mouth. Strange grabbed a handful of Steve’s hair, gripping it hard. 

“Do not stop!” 

Steve didn’t stop. Stephen fucked his mouth, thrusting hard as he held Steve in place with one hand while the other hand touched Steve’s body, caressing a hip, a leg. He simply needed to touch Steve.  
Steve wrapped his hand around Stephen and moved it hard and fast and never stopped sucking and licking. When Stephen came, he said things, things about love. Steve heard them, stored them in his memory for a day that he would need them.

Steve quickly grabbed a bottle of oil from the bedside table, oiled himself and Strange, then in spoon fashion, he slipped inside, holding Strange tight to his body as he moved, short, tight movements. He pushed Strange onto his stomach and spread his legs so he could fit between them and get better leverage. 

The bed shook as Steve rocked into him again and again. Strange braced his hands on the headboard. Sweat slickened their bodies as Steve made a primal sound, then rocked hard and deep until it was done. He collapsed beside Strange, breathing hard.

“That’s how much I missed you,” Steve told him.

“What the fuck are we going to do about this?’ 

“Talk about it tomorrow?” 

“That’ll work. Is there anything to eat here? I’m starving.”


End file.
